


The Wilting Flower

by MrAppleby



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F, Gay teens, Henri Ikeda, Kyoko x Sayaka, Love, M/M, OC Showcase, Orange soul gem, Tragedy, Yaoi, Young Lovers, Yuri, kyousaya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrAppleby/pseuds/MrAppleby
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a Magical Boy, fighting alongside the Mahou Shuojo. Having the time of his life in and out of battle. But one night a darkness creeps into his body, slowly eating away. What is causing this malaise? Can the girls cure it? [Prequel to Cheerful Fire]





	The Wilting Flower

_Henri Ikeda wasn't like the other boys, he never got into fights, took sports or be the one to stand out in a party. Instead, he stood by the school wall, looking up into the blue sky feeling the sun shine down on his white head. Sometimes Henri stares too long and leaves a blind spot on his eyes. Henri studied the sun intensely, wondering what secrets it lay in its power._

_Why, he asked, Why is the sun the way it is? A flaming ball of hydrogen yes, but how did it come to be that way? And furthermore, why is it yellow? Why not pink or blue? Because it happened to be that way?_

_Henri isn't good at science or anything of that sort. The complexities of life don't fascinate him, he'd rather admire the beauty of a flower than take apart it's individual components seeing how it worked._

_Life's too short to figure everything out he believed, just breathe in and let nature bathe us in her warm hands. He wanted the children of the earth to be carefree and playing._

_Carefree and playing…_

_At least, that was how he saw it._

_Love is the soul of a soulless world, you can never stop giving it nor receiving it, but is it true? that too much love..._

_...can kill you?_

* * *

 

Madoka enters the floral shop on the new part of Mitakihara. She hears birds, waterfalls and grasshoppers come in the stereo speakers. the bouquets elegantly spread out, the flowers facing in her direction. Tulips, Forget-me-nots, lavenders and daisies vibrant as the rainbow. She could feel her heart melt at the Elysian beauty.

She scoured this small room, overwhelmed by the colours, Like walking into the garden of heaven. She did a little gasp focusing on a bouquet of pink roses and lilies, the pigment faint, texture delicate. She froze saying nothing and doing nothing.

_"Can I help you, dear?_

A dainty voice caressed her eardrums, she turned in surprise. A tall, lanky boy walked quietly to Madoka, his eyes blue as the midday ocean. he stood beside her. "Exquisite, aren't they?"

Madoka couldn't say a word.

"Just keep looking, they have a natural calming effect."

Serenity imbues the air, nature's gifts massaging their souls.

"I look at them too, when it's not very busy. But looking at them I sense all the anger, frustration and fear inside wash away, I'm surrounded by the scarce beauty, cleansing my back, my chest... my heart."

"Yeah…" Madoka softly said, lost in this cosy world. Cut off from the hustle outside. No one else existed, the world thawed, nothing remained beyond the flower shop, only the two.

"Stay with me, won't you please?" The boy asked, extending his hand, gaze fixated on the pinkette.

Madoka turned away, flicking his hand off. "Um… I-I have to go home now..."

"Why? What's the hurry? Just stay for a little while longer."

"No… I-I can't I need to… pick up my brother from school... anyway, nice talking to you!" She darted off in a hurry, running back home. alarmed at the boy's calm yet eerie demeanour.  _Who is he? Why is he eager for me to stay?_

The questions lingered in her head for a few moments before drifting back to normal.

Back at the flower shop, the boy stood dumbfounded by the sudden departure. He returned to the counter exhaling a sigh of defeat. The quiet days are the worst ones, the deafening chisel of loneliness sculpted him to a statue, stuck leaning on the counter. One moment to share is all he wanted.

Soon, the air turned sombre and a darker shade of green pervaded.


End file.
